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Instilling Fear. September 1, 2009

Posted by Julie Momster in For My Daughter.
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That’s what my daughter is trying to do to me. Successfully, I might add.

Not only has she mastered her wounded-soldier crawl, but she now moves at a speed that is logic-defying. Meaning that I will go into the kitchen to grab a bottle, leaving her in one corner of the room. And I will return seconds later to her on the complete other side of the room, chewing on the television remote.

But now? Now, she has figured out how to crawl over to an object, and use it to pull herself into a near standing position.

Imagine this:

Chubby baby legs!

Chubby baby legs!

…..but with the booty sticking out further in the back. Unless I stand her up purposefully (as I did in this one), that’s the way she pulls herself up. I haven’t been able to upload a good picture of Avi doing it, but you get the idea.

FEAR. FEEL THE FEAR!

Come on, you know you're scared of this.

Come on, you know you're scared of this.

Because after this step….. comes the walking. Which, you know, ohh how cute! Baby’s first steps! Then no, not cute, chasing after baby as she attempts to bash her head on ALL THINGS IMAGINABLE! Because she does that already. Favorite thing to do while crawling = ramming her head repeatedly into our (albeit soft and suede) couch. Despite my chastising that doing this is not going to get her to the other side of said couch – just a headache.

Crawling Around

Crawling around, aimed for the couch

Oh, little Ga-Boo, why can’t you just stay tiny and little forever? Then Mama’s heart can have a minute to slow down. I feel like all of our time is going by so fast – soon you’ll be off to school, and then on your own, and if getting from birth to standing is going to fast for me, I have no idea how I’m going to handle all of that nonsense.

I can’t even handle when you go up in diaper or clothing sizes! I used to be great at dealing with change. Woo-hoo, something new and different?! Bring it on, man! Now I can handle nothing. N-to the-O-THING. The knowledge that you can not only say “Mama”, “Dada”, and “baba”, but that you know what they means? That floors me. You’re little self is mobile? Nope, done, can’t deal with it (But I can, in fact, videotape it for my own amusement).

Drooling everywhere, but nary a tooth to be seen

Drooling everywhere, but nary a tooth to be seen

Maybe you’re just too smart for your own good. Although I will fully admit that you are not THE SMARTEST BABY EVER TO TRY TO WALK THE EARTH, OMG. But, dang, if you are not smart in some ways that just baffle me. Or maybe you’re just more observant than I am, although at this point, that’s hardly difficult to do. I think a dead salamader could pull that off.

Collegiate Girl.

Collegiate Girl.

All I’m really saying is that I feel like I’m not spending enough time with you, and soon you’ll be too big, and won’t want to snuggle with me. Or play peek-a-boo, or let me nom on your little feet.

Oh no, you didn't!

Oh no, you didn't!

But so far, this is still in the future. And I’m worrying unnecessarily. I know this, and I know that my worrying time could be much better spent playing with you.

Love you, Baby Boo

Love you, Baby Boo

In that case, I’ll save my worrying for when I’m at work – I need something to keep up my higher brain functions!

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